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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29487213">a spoonful of professionalism</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ichigoday/pseuds/ichigoday'>ichigoday</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Comfort, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Break Up</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:40:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,916</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29487213</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ichigoday/pseuds/ichigoday</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Congratulations, Sakusa-sama! Your profile is now complete. You will be matched with a cuddler within the next 24-48 hours. Please ensure that our emails are not redirected to your spam or junk folders. We look forward to serving you soon!</i>
</p><hr/><p>It's been months since Kiyoomi and Wakatoshi broke up, and while Kiyoomi is used to being alone, he's not used to being <i>lonely</i>. For his next birthday, his friends decide to intervene and register him for slumbr, a service that provides single people with cuddling companions to help them sleep at night.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, past Ushijima Wakatoshi/Sakusa Kiyoomi - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>sakuatsu fluff week - day 3: "let's just stay like this for a little longer..."</p><p>cw alcohol</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kiyoomi rolls over to the cool side of his bed with a frustrated huff. His hands and feet are starting to break out into a cold sweat and he can’t decide if he needs to be under the covers or on top of them. He instinctively reaches for his phone; he dreads looking at the time, but he needs something, <em> anything</em>, to distract his mind long enough for him to fall asleep.</p><p>01:52 AM.</p><p>That gives him about five and a half hours before he has to wake up, but only if he manages to fall asleep right now.</p><p>Some nights are better than others. He’s tried everything short of sleeping pills, from yoga and meditation before bed to lavender bath salts and pillow spray. Kiyoomi likes falling asleep to the sound of rain about as much as the next person, but the playlists of “sounds to sleep to” never quite worked for him. He was too aware of how artificial they sounded coming from the speakers of his phone.</p><p>Nothing seems to quiet the noisy thoughts that keep him up at night.</p><p>Kiyoomi is no stranger to being alone. He prefers being alone most of the time. He relishes in the peace and quiet of his own space, where he can do things at his own pace. Catering to people is exhausting and not worth the judgment he often gets in return. Kiyoomi rarely meets like-minded people, considering said people are probably tucked away in their own bubbles of comfortable solitude. He’s accepted it.</p><p>All throughout high school and college, he watched couples come and go like the seasons. The same cycle, every time. It was laughably predictable, and it frustrated him to no end as he witnessed the people around him put themselves through the same heartbreak over and over again. He didn’t envy them one bit. Logically, statistically, first relationships—hell, relationships in general—weren’t meant to last. What was the point of even trying when the success rate was so abysmally low?</p><p>Kiyoomi rarely meets like-minded people, but, as he's come to discover, it’s not impossible, and when it finally happened, he fell <em> hard</em>.</p><p>His chest lurches at the memory of Wakatoshi. Wakatoshi, who had been so many of Kiyoomi’s firsts. They had been an unconventional couple, but a couple nonetheless. Wakatoshi gave Kiyoomi a taste of what he’d been missing out on, and it made him hungry for more. Deep down he knew first relationships were doomed to fail. There was too much floundering, too much uncharted territory to be navigated. But he became greedy and arrogant, and for a fleeting moment he dared to fly close to the sun. He dared to believe that he and Wakatoshi were the exception.</p><p>How naive of him to fall prey to the very cycle that he’d spent so many years watching from afar with scorn.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, just one drink,” Motoya presses.</p><p>“I’m tired.”</p><p>“You’re <em>always</em> tired,” he complains. “Just this one time, please? I won’t bother you again for the rest of the month. Also, I may have already made a reservation at the izakaya and they’re going to charge us if someone doesn’t show.”</p><p>Kiyoomi narrows his eyes at his cousin. He’s tempted to pull out his wallet and simply hand over the amount the izakaya would have charged them. On Friday nights people flock to restaurants and bars like moths to a lamp; Kiyoomi wants nothing more than to wind down after a tiring week of work with a mug of honey lemon tea and whatever quiz show is on TV.</p><p>“‘Us’? Who else is going?” he asks warily.</p><p>“Sunarin and Iizuna-san.”</p><p>Motoya knows better than to invite Kiyoomi to gatherings with more than four people, especially loud, rambunctious people. Suna and Iizuna are definitely more on the tolerable end of Kiyoomi’s spectrum.</p><p>“Fine,” Kiyoomi concedes, mostly so that he can get Motoya to stop pestering him. “Just one drink.”</p><p>“Just one drink,” Motoya affirms.</p><p> </p><p>The izakaya turns out to <em> not </em> be an izakaya but a yakiniku restaurant. Kiyoomi glares at his cousin—Motoya <em> knows </em> he doesn't like surprises—but he obediently sulks behind the hostess who takes them to their table, where Suna and Iizuna are already seated.</p><p>“Komori finally dragged you out, huh?” Iizuna chuckles. “Glad you’re still alive, Sakusa.”</p><p>Kiyoomi makes a noncommittal grunt as he slides into the booth. He loosens his tie and unloops the mask from his ears, tucking it away into his chest pocket. Tonight’s going to be a long night.</p><p>“Seriously, you are the least active person I know on social media,” Suna says with a pointed roll of his eyes. “Even my mom posts more than you. Would it kill you to post on Instagram or Twitter once in a while? At least post to your story if you’re not going to post to your feed. And stop leaving the group chat on read.”</p><p>“I check them,” Kiyoomi retorts. “I just don’t have anything worth posting.”</p><p>“You mean you haven’t been doing anything worth posting.” Without warning, Suna reaches over and deftly swipes Kiyoomi’s phone from the table.</p><p>“What the hell, Suna? Give that back.”</p><p>Instead, Suna opens the camera and holds his arm out.</p><p>“Get in the frame,” he commands. He maintains a deadpan look in his eyes as he holds up a peace sign—his signature look.</p><p>Before Kiyoomi can protest, Motoya throws an arm around his shoulders, forcing him to scoot closer and lean towards the phone as Suna snaps a rapid succession of pictures, slightly altering the angle of his arm and pose each time.</p><p>“There. Now you have something to post,” he says, handing the phone back to Kiyoomi. “Make sure you choose the most flattering one.”</p><p>Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, knowing Suna would complain regardless of which photo he picked.</p><p> </p><p>After a few rounds of drinks and juicy grilled short rib, Kiyoomi starts to feel more at ease, though the only giveaway is the slight tinge of pink in his cheeks. He’s content with sitting back and listening to his friends chatter mindlessly about their daily happenings while he nurses his yuzu highball. He almost feels bad for turning down Motoya all the other times he’d been invited to drinks or dinner. It’s not like he dislikes being in the company of his friends; most of the time, he just can’t muster up the energy needed to get there.</p><p>“So Kiyoomi,” Motoya says, turning to address him directly for once in the conversation. “I brought you here tonight for a reason.”</p><p>Kiyoomi eyes the others suspiciously as the three of them share a look. <em> Oh no, this is an intervention, isn’t it</em>, he thinks with a sinking feeling.</p><p>“Ready, and—”</p><p>“Happy birthday!”</p><p>Suna and Iizuna brandish a small fruit-topped cake from their side of the booth and slide it in front of Kiyoomi. He stares blankly at the cake before briefly pressing the home button on his phone to confirm that today is, indeed, the 20th of March. Huh. So he’s twenty-four now.</p><p>“Seriously? You forgot it was your own birthday?” Iizuna snorts.</p><p>Kiyoomi tries to shrug nonchalantly.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “What would you like to do for your birthday, Kiyoomi?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Gift giving was neither of their love languages; they much preferred shared experiences over material items. On the rare occasion they did buy something for each other, it was always something that served a practical purpose, something that they could both get use out of—a sticky roller, a clothing steamer, an automatic soap dispenser. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “It’s months away, Wakatoshi,” Kiyoomi huffed, though the corner of his lips quirked up into a small smile. “Why are you asking now?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I like to prepare in advance,” Wakatoshi said simply. “It might be a bit early to see the cherry blossoms in full bloom, but we may still be able to get a nice view by the Meguro River.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>All throughout March he willed himself to not think about it, but he knew it would be futile in the end. His Line notifications are turned off, but he knows there are birthday texts from his parents and siblings waiting for him. He’s appreciative of his friends, truly. He knows they’re trying to make him feel better, but he can’t help thinking about what he could have been doing instead. Who he could have been with.</p><p>“Kiyoomi, we know you’ve had a rough few months,” Motoya starts. It’s the first time in a while someone’s mentioned the break-up to his face, and it’s a sobering slap in the face. “We promise we’re not trying to rush you or anything—take all the time you need.”</p><p>“But we also want you to be happy,” Iizuna continues. “I know this is kinda cheesy, but you’re not alone, Sakusa. It’s okay to rely on people—on us—once in a while.”</p><p>Kiyoomi feels his throat tighten. He nods wordlessly, not trusting his voice to come out steadily.</p><p>“So we got you something,” Suna says. “Check your email.”</p><p>Email? Did they get him an e-gift card? Did people still send those nowadays? Kiyoomi opens the app on his phone and taps on the unread email at the top of the inbox.</p><p>
  <em> Happy birthday, Sakusa-sama! </em>
</p><p>
  <em> We are pleased to welcome you to the slumbr family. </em>
</p><p><em> slumbr is a small but growing company that specializes in providing fun and relaxing companionship dedicated to help you get a better night’s sleep. Our services are strictly platonic and do </em> not <em> involve sexual activity of any kind. After filling out our profile building questionnaire, you will be matched with one of our professional cuddlers within 24-48 hours.  </em></p><p>
  <em> You have been given a total of five sessions, which you may schedule once you have been matched with a cuddler. </em>
</p><p><em> Click </em> <em> this link </em> <em> to get started on your profile. </em></p><p>
  <em> Your next slumbr party awaits! 😴 </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Stay cozy, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sugawara Koushi </em>
</p><p>
  <em> slumbr Founder &amp; CEO </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Definitely <em> not </em> a gift card.</p><p>“What the fuck?”</p><p>“Okay, okay, don’t freak out, Sakusa,” Suna says. “A friend… of a friend recommended this company. Basically, you can have someone come over to cuddle you and help you fall asleep. There’s no sex or anything weird. They have all the rules listed on their site and they seem pretty strict about it. Just friendly cuddling, maybe a massage or two.” He maintains his usual nonchalant tone of voice, like he’s talking about what he had for dinner last night rather than a <em> cuddling escort service</em>.</p><p>“You expect me to invite some random stranger over to my place and sleep with me. In my bed,” Kiyoomi says flatly. They have to know how ridiculous that sounds, right? He’s starting to question his choice of friends.</p><p>“Well, if you’re gonna invite someone over to do that, you might as well get a professional, right?” Iizuna quips.</p><p>“Absolutely not.”</p><p>“Come on, Sakusa,” Suna goads. “I’ve heard good reviews.”</p><p>“From this ‘friend of a friend’?” Kiyoomi snorts.</p><p>“They won’t do anything you don’t want,” he says. “You don’t have to cuddle if you don’t want to. You can even ask them to sleep on the couch or another bed.”</p><p>Kiyoomi scowls at Suna. He’s suspiciously knowledgeable about this.</p><p> </p><p>Kiyoomi had hoped going out for drinks would tire him out enough to pass out when he got home, but once again he finds himself laying in bed, the familiar unease swirling in his gut. He’s still trying to process his friends’ idea of a birthday gift. He doesn’t even like having Motoya or his siblings over for an extended time; his skin crawls at the idea of inviting a total stranger into his apartment. But at the same time, he also hates seeing his friends’ money and efforts go to waste. A… service like this couldn’t have been cheap. With a resigned sigh, he grabs his phone from the nightstand and opens the damn email.</p><p>
  <b> <em>Welcome to slumbr! Let’s get started on your profile.</em> </b>
</p><p>Kiyoomi enters his name and selects his age, gender, height, weight, and preferred pronouns from a series of dropdown menus. He’s asked to upload a profile picture, so he selects one that Suna had conveniently taken earlier, making sure to crop everyone else out. Then he clicks on the ‘Next’ arrow.</p><p>
  <b> <em>In a few short sentences, tell us why you are interested in our services. This is so that we can do our best to meet your needs, but only share what you are comfortable with.</em> </b>
</p><p>Underneath the prompt is a text box for an open-ended response.</p><p><em> I can’t sleep well at night</em>, Kiyoomi types and then immediately deletes it.</p><p>
  <em> I’m having trouble moving on from a break up and it’s keeping me from sleeping well at night. </em>
</p><p>There. That’s specific enough, right? He clicks on the arrow to proceed.</p><p>
  <b> <em>Please check off everything that you are comfortable with.</em> </b>
</p><ul>
<li>Hugging</li>
<li>Cuddling</li>
<li>Spooning</li>
<li>Massages</li>
<li>Other (notes, requests, etc.)</li>
</ul><p>He and Wakatoshi hadn’t been the most touchy feely couple, so they hadn’t done most of the things on the list. He couldn’t imagine cuddling with Wakatoshi, let alone a total stranger. He supposes hugs are fine since they only last briefly. He checks the box next to ‘Hugging’ and then ‘Other,’ and in the blank space, he types, <em> Unsure about the others due to lack of experience, but not completely against them. </em> Then he proceeds to the next page.</p><p>
  <b> <em>Let us know the type of cuddler you’re looking for.</em> </b>
</p><p>Kiyoomi is given the option to choose a preferred age range, gender, and height for his cuddler. From a long list of personality traits, he’s allowed to select five. Kiyoomi typically finds it difficult to connect with people younger than him, having grown up with two older siblings. He prefers being with people his age or older, but just to be safe and broaden his options, he sets the lower end of the range to 23—one year younger than himself—and the maximum to 28.</p><p>Wakatoshi is one of the few people Kiyoomi’s met who’s taller than him. He knows it would be unrealistic to request someone of the same height, but at the same time, he doesn’t want there to be a stark height difference either. He selects 180.0 cm for the minimum height and leaves the maximum blank.</p><p>
  <b> <em>Any other questions, comments, or requests?</em> </b>
</p><p><em> I would prefer if the cuddler showered and changed in my apartment at the beginning of the session, </em>Kiyoomi types without reservation.</p><p>He looks down at the progress bar. Only one more page to go.</p><p>
  <b> <em>Some final rules to keep in mind. Should you violate any one of these rules, we reserve the right to terminate your account with no refund.</em> </b>
</p><ul>
<li>No sexual touching or activity of any kind.</li>
<li>No kissing.</li>
<li>No violence.</li>
<li>Please refrain from alcohol and/or drug use prior to and during the session.</li>
<li>Both parties must be fully clothed at all times.</li>
<li>Cuddlers are only obligated to remain for the duration of the session.</li>
<li>All contact must be done through the website’s messaging system. Please do not exchange any personal contact information.</li>
</ul><p>Kiyoomi checks the box confirming that he’s read and agreed to their rules. Then he taps on the ‘Done’ button.</p><p>
  <em> Congratulations, Sakusa-sama! Your profile is now complete. You will be matched with a cuddler within the next 24-48 hours. Please ensure that our emails are not redirected to your spam or junk folders. We look forward to serving you soon! </em>
</p><p>Kiyoomi exhales deeply. His fingers are shaking slightly, more so out of nervous excitement than anxiety.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Atsumu-kun,” Sugawara says with a pleasant smile. “I may have a job for you. How do you feel about tall, dark, and handsome guys?”</p><p>“Depends.” Atsumu tries to maintain a neutral tone, in case there’s a catch (and there was never knowing with Suga).</p><p>“192 centimeters.”</p><p>“<em>Goddamn</em>,” he whistles. He’s never been with a client taller than him before, and this guy is nearly five whole centimeters taller. Atsumu is regularly around other men over 185 at his modeling gigs, but even he doesn’t know anyone that tall aside from Lev, a towering 196 centimeters thanks in part to his Russian genes. “Does that mean I get t’ be little spoon fer once?”</p><p>“Well…” Suga says. “I’m not so sure about that. He only checked off ‘hugging’ but it sounds like he’s just not used to cuddling in general. If you take it slow with him, maybe he’ll open up and become more comfortable. He has five sessions in total. Think you’re up for it? He asked for someone over 180 centimeters, so it’s either you or Bokuto.”</p><p>Any initial hesitation is immediately shoved aside by Atsumu’s competitive streak. He and Bokuto have been betting on who can get more clients by the end of the month, so there’s no way he’s going to give someone up to him, let alone pass up the chance to be the little spoon. After all, who doesn’t like being the little spoon?</p><p><em> Bokkun’s gonna be so jealous</em>, he thinks smugly.</p><p>“I’ll do it.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Good evening, Sakusa-sama, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Thank you for your patience. We are pleased to let you know that we have matched you with one of our lovely professional cuddlers! </em>
</p><p><em> Name: Atsumu </em> <em><br/></em> <em> Age: 24 </em> <em><br/></em> <em> Gender: Male (Cis) </em> <em><br/></em> <em> Pronouns: He/Him </em><br/><em> Height: 187.7 cm </em> <em><br/></em>Weight: <em>80 kg</em></p><p>
  <em> Click here to view his schedule and book your first session. The first session will be 12 hours long to give you and your cuddler time to get acquainted. The remaining four sessions will be 10 hours each. If you have any questions or concerns about your match, you can reply directly to this email. After your appointment has been made, you will be able to contact Atsumu through our website’s messaging system. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Again, we thank you for choosing slumbr, and we look forward to serving you! </em>
</p><p>Kiyoomi clicks the link, which opens up Atsumu’s schedule. His profile is listed in the sidebar underneath his picture, which appears to be a professional headshot taken against a solid white background. He has messy, bleached blond hair parted at the side and his lips are turned up in a relaxed smirk.</p><p>There’s no denying that Atsumu is attractive—and with that height, he could easily be a model—but from his picture alone, Kiyoomi can sense that Atsumu is the polar opposite of Wakatoshi (and himself) and he wonders if they’ll really be compatible enough to cuddle together.</p><p>Well, he’s gotten this far already. At this point, it’ll be more awkward if he backs down now. Kiyoomi scrolls through the schedule and selects a 12-hour time block on the upcoming Saturday from 10:30 PM to 10:30 AM.</p><p> </p><p>The panic starts to set in at 10:20. Kiyoomi had spent the entire day cleaning his already spotless apartment, but he runs his sticky roller over his rug again, needing something to distract him while he waits for Atsumu. At 10:28, the doorbell rings and Kiyoomi flinches even though he’d been anticipating it. He tries to get a view of Atsumu in the monitor to make sure that it’s him, but Atsumu (or whoever it is) is standing just outside of the frame, so he presses the button to speak through the intercom.</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>“H’lo, Sakusa-san? This is Atsumu from slumbr.”</p><p>“Give me a second,” he answers, hoping his voice doesn’t betray his nerves.</p><p>Kiyoomi nervously tugs the hem of his shirt and runs his hair through his hair. He takes one last deep breath, turns the lock, and opens the door.</p><p>“Hi there, Sakusa-san!” Atsumu’s smile is dazzlingly bright, as is his entire presence. “Nice t’ finally meet ya.”</p><p>Throughout the week, Kiyoomi had read over Atsumu’s profile countless times and ingrained Atsumu’s picture into his memory, but he still feels wildly unprepared for this moment. As expected, Atsumu is slightly shorter than Kiyoomi himself, but he’s also broader and more muscular. A black duffle bag hangs from his right shoulder. The thing that catches Kiyoomi by surprise, though, is the distinct lilt of his dialect.</p><p>“Uh, yeah,” he mumbles awkwardly. “Come in.”</p><p>“Thanks fer havin’ me,” Atsumu says, stepping into the entryway. “Wow, you really weren't lyin’ about yer height on yer profile, huh?”</p><p>“Why would I?” Kiyoomi asks and immediately cringes at himself. Shit, that definitely came out ruder than he had meant.</p><p>“Y’know how weird some guys are ‘bout their height. Always lyin’ and addin’ a couple extra centimeters on datin’ apps and stuff. I’m glad yer not that kinda person, Sakusa-san.”</p><p>“You, uh, you can drop the -san, Atsumu-san,” Kiyoomi says. “We’re the same age anyway.”</p><p>Atsumu wrinkles his nose. “If I’m bein’ honest, I‘m not a fan of the -san either. ‘Atsumu’ is fine.”</p><p>“Do you… want to call me by my first name then?” Kiyoomi asks hesitantly. Other than his family and Wakatoshi, hardly anyone addressed him by his first name.</p><p>“What would you be comfortable with?” Atsumu asks. “D’you go by a nickname or anythin’ like that?”</p><p>He shakes his head.</p><p>“Yer name’s Kiyoomi, right?” Atsumu muses. “Pretty name.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Kiyoomi,” Wakatoshi said gently. “May I call you that from now on?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It was a foreign feeling, being called his first name by someone outside of his family. He was neutral about it now that, as an adult, people rarely called him by his first name, but the bitter childhood memories still lingered in the back of his mind. The unusual, girly-sounding name, coupled with his broody, awkward demeanor frequently made him the target of his classmates’ ridicule. He hated the way it flowed off the tongue. Hated having to repeat himself and correct people whenever they mistakenly called him ‘Kiyomi’ instead. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But hearing his name in Wakatoshi’s velvety deep voice made his chest do a flip. He wanted to hear it more. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You may.” Kiyoomi blushed and averted his eyes. “Wakatoshi.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Omi-kun? Hey, Omi-Omiii?”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Doin’ okay there, Omi-kun?” Atsumu asks, a worried look in his eyes. “You were zonin’ out on me for a second there.”</p><p>“‘Omi’…?”</p><p>“Sorry, it kinda just slipped out,” he grins sheepishly. “I like givin’ people nicknames, but I can stop if you don’t like it.”</p><p>Kiyoomi realizes he’s never been given a nickname in all twenty-four years of his life. He’d been perfectly fine with it; it simply never occurred to him that it was even possible with his name.</p><p><em> Omi</em>.</p><p>“I… don’t dislike it,” he admits, an inexplicable warmth spreading through his body.</p><p>“Whew.” Atsumu lets out a drawn out sigh of relief. “I’d be doin’ a shit job if I was makin’ ya uncomfortable from the start.”</p><p>Kiyoomi blinks. Surely, if anything, he’s the one making Atsumu uncomfortable. He’s never been good with meeting new people. He seems to always rub people the wrong way, whether he intends to or not. He’s aware he comes off as cold and standoffish. He’s learned to deal with it over the years; he’s come to realize that people who are quick to judge based on first impressions probably aren’t worth his time anyway.</p><p>“D’you wanna sit down and chat or should I shower first? You wrote in yer requests that ya wanted me t’ shower at the beginning.”</p><p>“I, uh… either’s fine with me.”</p><p>“Let’s get the formalities outta the way then,” Atsumu says. </p><p>Kiyoomi leads him down the hall towards the living room. Atsumu shrugs the duffle bag from his shoulder and takes a seat on one end of the couch.</p><p>“I’m sure ya read everything already, but I gotta go over it once more just t’ make sure we’re on the same page. Company policy.”</p><p>Kiyoomi reread the emails and pored over the slumbr site multiple times every day for the past week, to the point that he’s pretty much memorized everything, but he complies and sits down on the opposite end. Atsumu pulls out his phone and rattles off the rules one by one.</p><p>“Today’s our first session, so we don’t have t’ cuddle or anythin’. We can just chill and take it easy, get t’ know each other. I can sleep on the couch, I can sleep next to ya in bed without touchin’ ya—anythin’ ya want, really. The world is yer oyster. Or I guess I’m yer oyster?” Atsumu chuckles to himself. “Just let me know what you wanna do.”</p><p>Kiyoomi normally hates having people over, his own friends and family included. His apartment is an extension of himself, and it’s unsettling having another person invading his space, but…  </p><p>He looks over at Atsumu, who’s leaned back and relaxed into the couch, thighs slightly apart like he’s in his own house. They’ve only just met, but something about Atsumu’s presence is strangely comforting, like an old worn flannel he’s rediscovered at the back of his closet.</p><p>“To be honest, I don’t really know what I want.” Kiyoomi looks down at his hands and cracks his fingers in his lap out of habit. It’s been a while since he’s felt this vulnerable, and he’s not sure if he likes it or not. <em> Is this what therapy is like? </em> “I… I don’t think I’m ready to cuddle yet, but some of the other things might be fine.”</p><p>“How’s this? We can try a couple things and if ya ever feel uncomfortable, ya tell me t’ stop. No questions asked.”</p><p>Kiyoomi nods, relieved.</p><p>After Atsumu finishes going through the rest of slumbr’s policies, he shuffles off to the bathroom to shower as per Kiyoomi’s request. In the meantime, Kiyoomi turns the TV on to his usual quiz show, but he can barely focus on the questions. It’s odd, hearing the shower running while he’s in another room, a jarring reminder that he isn’t alone in his apartment for once. Atsumu has been nothing but accommodating so far, but Kiyoomi has no idea how the rest of the night is going to pan out, and the lack of predictability keeps him on edge.</p><p>“Oh, these are fun!” Atsumu’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. The scent of his body wash wafts into the living room as he returns to his spot on the couch. “Used t’ watch these all the time with my family. I’m terrible at ‘em though.”</p><p>They watch intently as the contestants attempt to pair a random assortment of kanji into compounds to clear the board before the timer runs out.</p><p>“<em>Daizu</em>,” Kiyoomi murmurs a second before the woman on the screen confirms the answer. “<em>Kaika. Yagen.</em>”</p><p>“Wow, yer really smart, Omi-kun!”</p><p>Kiyoomi feels his face warm.</p><p>“These are words from an elementary school textbook,” he says without thinking. Then his mind catches up to him and he realizes that he unintentionally insulted Atsumu. “Not to imply anything about you, of course,” he adds quickly.</p><p>Atsumu just laughs.</p><p>“Nah, I was always pretty bad at kanji.”</p><p>Kiyoomi turns his attention back to the TV. Atsumu is easy to be around—almost too easy, to the point that it’s unnerving. He can’t help but wonder if Atsumu is this nice to everyone he meets, or if he’s only acting this way because he’s being paid. Atsumu had stressed that he wanted Kiyoomi to be as honest and open with him as possible, but it feels weirdly one-sided.</p><p>“Hey, Omi-kun, d’you wanna try leaning against me? Might help ya get a bit more used t’ touching.”</p><p>“O-okay.” Kiyoomi stiffly inches over and leans to the side, resting his temple against the tip of Atsumu’s shoulder while keeping his abs tense to hold himself upright.</p><p>“You can put yer entire weight on me, I work out,” Atsumu says teasingly.</p><p>It takes a bit of wiggling, but Atsumu is patient and adjusts himself until Kiyoomi is able to comfortably lean against him. Kiyoomi closes his eyes and breathes in the lingering citrusy scent of his soap on Atsumu’s skin.</p><p>He doesn’t hate it as much as he thought he would.</p><p>“Okay?” Atsumu asks.</p><p>“Mhm,” he hums.</p><p>“Good.” He can hear the gentle smile in Atsumu’s voice.</p><p>Three quick fire rounds of kanji questions later, Kiyoomi’s eyelids start to droop.</p><p>“Hey, Omi-kun, wanna head to bed? Yer startin’ to fall asleep on me.” </p><p>Kiyoomi sits up and rubs his eyes. It’s been ages since he’s drifted off to sleep unplanned—he’s not even in bed yet—and the realization catches him by surprise.</p><p>“Y-yeah.”</p><p>“Where d’you want me?”</p><p>He takes a second to mull over the question. He knows Atsumu is willing to honor any request he makes, but it seems cruel to force him to sleep on the couch. Kiyoomi isn’t sure he’ll be able to fall asleep immediately after getting into bed, so he figures it’ll be better to at least have Atsumu in the bedroom with him.</p><p>“Could… could you sleep next to me on the bed?” he asks tentatively. “Without touching.”</p><p>“Sure about that, Omi-kun?”</p><p>Kiyoomi nods and Atsumu beams.</p><p>“I’m glad yer feelin’ comfortable. Means I’m doin’ my job right.”</p><p>Right, this is his job. Kiyoomi tries to ignore the tight sensation that grips his chest.</p><p> </p><p>Kiyoomi digs out the spare pillow from his closet—the one Wakatoshi used whenever he stayed over. They fit on Kiyoomi’s queen-sized bed with several centimeters separating them. Atsumu lays on his side to give Kiyoomi as much room as possible. Kiyoomi, on the other hand, isn’t sure what to do with himself, whether he should sleep on his back or his side, facing Atsumu or away from him.</p><p>“I can hear ya thinkin, Omi-kun,” Atsumu teases gently. “D’you need anythin’?”</p><p>“I guess I’m still kinda nervous,” he confesses. “I mentioned this when I was filling out the profile, but I… I broke up with my boyfriend—my first boyfriend—a few months ago, so…” His voice trails off in uncertainty. </p><p>“Ya miss him?”</p><p>Kiyoomi takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. He is <em> not </em> going to cry in front of someone he’s just met.</p><p>“I’m usually fine during the day, when I’m busy working and doing other things, but when I’m just laying in bed at night, I end up thinking about him, about how alone I am in my apartment,” he says. “But I want to be over him. I’m not using you as a replacement for him, I promise.”</p><p>“I’m used to it,” Atsumu chuckles. “But I appreciate ya tellin’ me.”</p><p>Kiyoomi’s heart sinks at the casual admittance. He understands it’s Atsumu’s job to go along with whatever his clients want, but still… Atsumu is a person, not an object.</p><p>“My… ex and I, we didn’t really cuddle or anything. We were similar. Probably too similar, so I’m new to a lot of this.” Kiyoomi is still unaccustomed to referring to Wakatoshi as his ex and the pang in his chest that inevitably follows. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep bringing him up.”</p><p>“I don’t mind,” Atsumu says reassuringly. “You can vent t’ me about him if it’ll make ya feel better.”</p><p>Kiyoomi doesn’t think it will. He appreciates the thought, but he doesn’t really want to be that guy right now.</p><p>“This might sound kind of stupid, but can you talk to me about something? Anything?”</p><p>“‘s not stupid,” Atsumu replies. “Kinda hard t’ think of what to say on the spot, though. Are ya curious about anythin’ in particular?”</p><p>“I’ve been wondering this since before, but, uh, are you from Kansai?”</p><p>“Heh, pretty obvious, ain’t it? I was born in Kobe but my family moved to Nishinomiya when I was little so I spent most’a my life there.”</p><p>“What’s Nishinomiya like?”</p><p>Kiyoomi closes his eyes and listens to Atsumu as he recounts his and his twin brother’s antics when they were children and describes the fatty tuna from his favorite neighborhood sushi restaurant. Somewhere, amidst the sleepy haze starting to settle in his brain, Kiyoomi makes a mental note to ask more about his twin, but before he can manage to form the words, he’s lulled to sleep by the melodic rise and fall of Atsumu’s voice.</p><p> </p><p>For the first time in months, Kiyoomi doesn’t wake up feeling like death.</p><p>It’s… nice. He feels physically lighter somehow, exhaustion not weighing him down for once. He looks over at Atsumu, who has—miraculously—barely shifted in his sleep. Huh. <em> Guess he is a professional after all</em>, Kiyoomi dryly thinks to himself. Last night, he had been dreading the awkwardness that was sure to come once they woke up, but now he feels oddly at ease.</p><p>He feels like he’s floating as he goes through his morning routine on autopilot. He goes to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water before heading to the bathroom. When he returns to the bedroom, face washed and teeth brushed, he’s in an even better mood than before.</p><p>Atsumu is awake now, propped up on his elbows and scrolling on his phone.</p><p>“Mornin’, Omi-kun! Sleep well?”</p><p>"I did,” he answers, returning Atsumu’s grin with a small smile of his own. “I’m impressed you barely moved in your sleep.”</p><p>Atsumu laughs, voice still slightly hoarse from sleep. It’s the first time Kiyoomi feels like someone else’s presence actually livens up his apartment. After Atsumu gets out of bed and washes up, they still have about an hour and a half left in their session, so out of courtesy, Kiyoomi offers to make breakfast.</p><p>“Yer not obligated t’ feed me, Omi-kun,” Atsumu says. “I don’t mind grabbin’ somethin’ from the conbini.”</p><p>“I would’ve been making something for myself anyway,” Kiyoomi says matter-of-factly. “Besides it’s easier cooking for two people than for one.”</p><p>“Well if ya put it that way…”</p><p>“Just don’t expect anything fancy.”</p><p> </p><p>Kiyoomi turns on the TV for background noise, a habit he picked up since he started living alone. It fills the silence as they eat and gives them something to occasionally comment on. When they finish, Atsumu insists on doing the dishes in return for the food, so Kiyoomi waits patiently on the couch, half paying attention to the TV as he browses Twitter on his phone.</p><p>Before he knows it, the faucet stops running and his stomach sinks as the variety show—and his time with Atsumu—comes to an end.</p><p>“Guess this is my cue to go,” Atsumu says, slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder.</p><p>Kiyoomi nods and wordlessly walks Atsumu to the door. He tries to tamp down whatever amorphous feelings are threatening to bubble up and reminds himself that this was the deal. A twelve-hour session from 10:30 PM to 10:30 AM. Nothing more than a mere business transaction… albeit a very lengthy and comforting one.</p><p>“Hey, Omi-kun?” Atsumu murmurs.</p><p>Kiyoomi looks up into his warm brown eyes and blinks questioningly.</p><p>“Can I hug ya?”</p><p>Kiyoomi huffs a laugh. The one thing he had okayed on his profile, and Atsumu’s still asking for permission. He leans forward and wraps his arms around Atsumu, and the warmth instantly melts away some of the unease. </p><p>“Thanks fer havin’ me, Omi-kun,” Atsumu says, his breath tickling Kiyoomi’s ear. “Hope ya had a good time.”</p><p>It’s the most contact they’ve had so far, and when Atsumu pulls away Kiyoomi has to stop himself from chasing him for more.</p><p>“I’ll, uh, schedule another session.” Kiyoomi mumbles. He cringes at how clinical it sounds. “I mean… I look forward to having you over again.” Still stiff, but slightly better.</p><p>“Can’t wait, Omi-kun!” Atsumu grins. “Take care of yerself, okay?”</p><p>“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi says suddenly as the door swings open.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“I want to cuddle next time.”</p><p> </p><p>Later that night, Kiyoomi schedules their second session.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is loosely based on a josei manga i read FOREVER ago about a woman who ran a cuddling escort agency. i don't remember the title of it and haven't been able to find it on google, but if anyone knows, PLEASE let me know in the comments or on <a href="https://twitter.com/ichig0day">twitter</a>/<a href="https://curiouscat.qa/ichig0day">cc</a>!</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://twitter.com/ichig0day/status/1361674496185229319?s=20">fic post on twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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